


Warm Blessings

by MoonGalleon22



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 08:47:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3844558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonGalleon22/pseuds/MoonGalleon22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During his first night with Hawke, Anders learns to push personal boundaries of intimacy, love, and acceptance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warm Blessings

Before the first time Anders made love with Hawke, he thought he knew what pleasure meant.

He knew his own body well, he thought, had been touched by enough people and spent enough time learning it with his own hands that pleasure seemed easy to get, when he could quieten down the thoughts that made him fail to pursue it. He certainly knew how to wring it out of other people, his tongue and fingers nimble, his confidence as powerful and magic as the sparks he could conjure between his fingertips (although never had he had experienced so much pride upon feeling someone come under his hands, so much joy boiling in him from causing hers).

But then, Hawke flipped him over and grinned up at him, slid her hands up past his thighs and onto his hips, waggling her eyebrows at him as she pulled at the clasps that held the harness in place. He took a deep breath, nodding shakily; always, he had used the strap-on to pleasure people, hardly ever letting anyone actually touch him, but Hawke, he trusted with his life - why couldn’t he trust her with his body, too?

He raised his hips, and as she pulled the leather straps slowly off his body, she whispered “thank you” into the skin inside his thigh.

Anders kept his breath slow, tried keeping it calm as she ran her eyes over what she could see of his genitals, but he couldn’t keep the hitch out of his breathing when she ran her hands down to his knees and pushed them apart. Exposed, more so than he had ever been, and he hadn’t felt shame in his body for a while, but it wasn’t from shame that his head fell back and his eyes screwed themselves shut. Intimacy, and the last dregs of his fear of it, felt heavy in his chest and curbed his breath as much as his old bindings did. He felt Hawke’s hands run up and down his waist, comforting, and he nodded, eyes still shut.

“I’m alright, sweetheart, keep going,” he heard himself say (pant, rather), and her fingers curled around the curve of his ribs, gently squeezing for just a moment, before moving back down to his hips. He loved how her hands felt on him, soft and sweet.

Anders only opened his eyes again, moving away from his thoughts and back into her arms, when he heard her whisper, as if to herself, “Oh, Anders, you beautiful boy, just look at you.” He could almost hear the smile in Hawke’s voice, then, and if he didn’t know he loved her before then, then he certainly did at that moment.

He looked down to see her face, almost reverent, as if she had been blessed, and he smiled when he realised that perhaps she had. He could, after all, take this away from her whenever he wanted. Tell her no, make a joke, try again another time or never; but it shocked him that he wanted this, too, wanted to lie back and let her do with him as she wished, because Maker forgive him, he loved her and her hands and the things she could do with them. He wanted to laugh, not at himself for once, but at the freedom that exploded in his chest then and the exhilaration from it; he was free to offer himself to her, and he was proud to do it.

The laughter that bubbled up past his lips broke off, a gasp ragged with want, when she started kissing down his leg and hovered teasingly above his cock, her eyes flickering back up to him. Asking him the most important question, and he sighed, his hand moving up to clip a stray hair behind her ear, stroking her cheekbones and finally cupping the base of her skull.

“Hawke, please, I want you, please - ”

And it was funny, he would think in hindsight - he had never liked receiving oral sex before, on the rare times he had tried it, before he came out and steered people away from these things. The boy who’d tried it before did it because “girls love it, you’ll come for sure,” but that wasn’t what happened at all - all Anders felt was the cold wetness of his tongue licking at none of the right places. Phlegmatic, he thought, moist and full of regret. Perhaps it was that nothing with Hawke could ever be cold, or the fact that Anders had already worked himself up so that he had heat trapped in his own veins, just waiting to be let loose?

All he knew was that it was heat and pressure, pulling and pushing at his body, and he could almost feel her coaxing the pleasure out of him, his blood pounding through him. He moaned, his breath shallow, and he let his eyes drift closed, let his body do whatever she commanded of it. 

Anders was so close to coming when he felt soaked fingertips nudge at the entrance of his front hole; his eyes shot open and he quickly scrabbled up onto his elbows, his head already shaking.

“No, darling, not there,” he managed to say, and her eyes flickered up to his again - her fingers adjusted themselves, settling behind him, and she waited for his word; she smiled around his cock when he nodded and moaned as her fingers pressed inside his ass.

After that, he lost track of what was happening, the details lost in the warm haze that followed: he would remember throwing his head back at some point with a loud gasp, his hips moving to rut against her tongue and the fingers inside him, the pleasure coiling inside him like a snake, like healing magic building up before he lets it out through his palms.

He knew that he was louder than he’d ever dared to be in his life before then; growing up in the Circle, getting caught meant getting punished, and he didn’t know a single other mage who hadn’t learnt to take their pleasures quietly. But then, with her, safe and free, the words flowed from him, his own mouth just as worshipful in those moments as her own.

Eventually, all at once, his back arched like a bow, his hands scrabbling to take hold of something, anything, so he could stay grounded, stay tethered to her, and the pleasure of his orgasm crackled through his skin and lit him on fire inside just as surely as Justice did. A scream tore itself from him, out of surprise as much as the sheer brute force of the sensation, the feeling lasting for longer than he imagined he could bear. He heard her saying, beneath the white noise in his head, “It’s okay, let go, Anders, I’m here,” and the hand that had found itself clutching at her hair relaxed, his body unwound and sinking into the sheets, suddenly feeling boneless.

Anders laid still for several minutes, out of breath, staring up at the ceiling in stunned silence while she pulled her fingers out of him and repositioned herself to lie next to him, curling around his chest. All the noise died down, the two of them quiet again. When he felt like the capacity for speech was returned to him, he broke that silence.

“Well,” he started, his voice cracking halfway. “Well, that was,” he tried again, grinning like a fool. She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.

“Amazing? Astounding? Absolutely fantastically wondrous? Super special awesome?” Hawke supplied for him, and when she went to kiss him again he moved into it, her lips unspeakably soft against his.

She smiled against his lips, before melting into it, and when they broke apart breathlessly, she rested her forehead on his. It was a long moment before he spoke again.

“…I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good,” he confessed, completely unable to stop the grin that lit up his face.

She smiled shyly, for once being without a clever retort. “Me neither,” she replied, the honesty of her words making his heart pound.

“Glad I’m good for something,” he joked, his voice shaky. Her smile turned sly at that, her fingers stroking through the hair on his belly.

“I think you’ll be good for a lot of things,” Hawke said, laying a gentle peck on one cheekbone. “Might as well keep you around, hmm? If you made me breakfast in bed too, well, I might just marry you tomorrow.”

He would have passed that off as a joke, too, if her voice hadn’t trembled as she said it, only a little, her blue eyes so intense they were boring holes in him. He caressed her cheek, feeling how warm it was under his palm.

“Ooh, I can just picture it now. Varric and Isabela would be our Best Man and Maid Of Honour, and the four of us would badger choir boy into officiating it.” Anders gave her a quick peck on the lips and she deepened it, her tongue sweeping across his lip. Between kisses, he continued talking; “It would be the most controversial wedding Kirkwall has ever seen - an esteemed noblewoman and an apostate, in a whirlwind marriage! And that’s leaving out any…legal issues, shall we say,” he added, the thought occurring to him that they might not have ever changed his gender marker in the Templar records.

She eased the sudden tension by nipping his lower lip between her teeth. “Whether there are wedding bells for us, or no, it sounds to me like a romance for the ages - Varric would make a fortune writing this one down. I wonder what he’d call it? ‘Lovers in Lowtown,’ maybe?”

“Neither of us live in Lowtown, Hawke.”

“Well, I practically live at The Hanged Man, too, but I see your point. Hmm…'Getting Dirty In Darktown,’ then?”

He laughed, biting his lip when her hand dipped down lower. “You make it sound like he would be writing something vulgar, rather than something sweet.” She rubbed her palm across his still-tender cock, and he squirmed. “Although perhaps, the way we’re going so far, that wouldn’t be too inaccurate.”

“Hmm, true enough,” she said, grinning at him, full of mischief and humour. “Not that you’re complaining. Are you complaining?" 

He kissed her again, one last time, before leaning back and settling down into the mattress beneath him. "Maker, no. Please, continue - the least we can do is scandalise the neighbours.”

She giggled, and when he moved and pinned her beneath him, he thought that perhaps the Maker did bless people after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this all the way back in October, so before Inquisition came out, and I'm posting it up here because I've decided to dissolve my nsfw sideblog on tumblr where this was originally posted. Basically, I wanted some fluffy smut with femHawke and trans!Anders, and I make no excuses. It didn't have a title originally, though, so I apologise if the title is a bit bland. Also, the language I used in reference to Anders' anatomy isn't necessarily language that all trans men would use, so please keep that in mind.


End file.
